Freehold

by Michael Z. Williamson

  It wrapped around her throat, crossed in back between her shoulders, in front over her breasts, in the small of her back and then formed a four-piece skirt at both sides, front and back. Every step showed thigh almost all the way to her buttocks and crotch. She felt well covered, but showed almost her entire body. Underwear, of course, was out of the question.

  "Very elegant and professional," Marta commented. Kendra still had trouble with local styles. This was not an outfit she would have considered professional.

  She winced at the price tag—Cr500. Marta explained, "Your basic fee is going to be a thousand and I'll lay money you wind up over two; social calls are big money."

  Kendra bought it and a cloak in the same shimmering white, then matching shoes at Mattias Shoes, which Marta specifically chose. "Your client owns this chain. Never miss a chance to stroke an ego." They used the restroom at the store to apply makeup, including bitter-tasting lip and tongue glitter and temple coloring. Marta did Kendra's hair by hand, then her own. Several layers of lipgloss shaded from rich blue to violet from the edge of her lips in. Once done, Kendra looked very poised and sophisticated. Some borrowed silver jewelry set off the cool blue tones of her pale skin. To complete the look, Marta took her to a salon to have her nails lengthened and scrimshawed.

  As they walked to the hotel, Marta gave her a history. "I'm Alexia Urquidez. We should make you sound Scandinavian. Any ideas?"

  "No, not really," Kendra replied. She was becoming very nervous.

  "Let me think, then." Alexia paused, but kept walking. "Let's call you Stacia Jorgensen." She pronounced it "Stah-see-ah," emphasizing the first syllable. "You're good with gardens, so work with that. Don't be afraid to be technical. You're an immigrant, but with your parents several years ago. You're thirteen"—Kendra figured that as twenty-one Earth years—"and new to escorting and have only been doing this about three months. You're part time."

  "Got it," Kendra agreed. "Who are we meeting?"

  "You are meeting Joseph Mattias, as in Mattias shoes. He's divorced, thirty-three—fifty Earth years—Very wealthy and quite a nice gentleman."

  Marta added a few details as they approached the Bon Place. She drew a half-step ahead and steered Kendra toward two smiling businessmen waiting outside.

  "Ryan!" she greeted, hugging one of them warmly and kissing him lightly. "And you must be Joseph," she said, greeting the other. "This is my friend, Stacia Jorgensen. Stacia, this is Ryan McAran and Joseph Mattias."

  Mattias took her hands in his and smiled. He leaned forward and kissed her very softly. "Delighted to meet you, Stacia. Alexia said you were exotically beautiful, but she didn't do you justice when she described you." He looked her up and down, obviously pleased with her appearance. Kendra smiled demurely, while blushing.

  They climbed into a waiting limousine, Mattias opening the door for the ladies himself and sending the driver up front. He got in last, spoke directions, then asked, "Drinks?"

  Alexia said, "Ginger ale, spiced, please." Ryan asked for scotch and "Stacia" took a lime ice. Heeding Alexia's advice, she sipped carefully, so as not to disturb her lip glitter. It was a brand used by professional models and very durable, but not indestructible. She looked around briefly, something she was expert at after seven months trying to adapt to this culture and noted the plush leather interior in soft earth tones. There were two huge seats, an autobar, entertainment system, a comm that made hers look like a toy and a fold-out work desk.

  "What are your interests, Stacia?" Mattias asked, reclining. He held her hand in his lap.

  "I'm a consultant on Earth culture and I'm a horticultural designer," she returned. Damn, it sounded swank.

  "Really. I've always loved well-sculpted gardens. I find them very relaxing. Sometime you must see my home and tell me what you think."

  "I'd be thrilled," she lied. Mattias seemed nice enough and was in excellent shape. He was decent looking, and she relaxed a little.

  "We should discuss business first, gentlemen," Alexia reminded.

  "Of course," Mattias nodded. "Ryan, you located two stunning ladies to accompany us, please allow me." He reached into his jacket, shuffled money, then laid four five-hundred and four one-hundred credit chits on the low table between the seats. The tipping had started already, Kendra saw.

  McAran nodded, looking slightly put out. Apparently his host had just made points in some business game they were playing. Kendra watched with interest and kept a surreptitious eye on Alexia for clues. When Alexia placed her drink down, she smoothly retrieved her twelve hundred and slid it into a slot in her pouch, apparently built especially for that purpose. Kendra followed her lead, tucking the money under the flap and down with the hand farthest from the group. She felt very self-conscious taking money like this.

  They reached their destination soon enough and Kendra was eager to see the Bellefontaine. After her first offer of employment, she'd heard it mentioned several times, always as somewhere the ordinary person could never afford.

  As they entered, a girl took their cloaks. She wore nothing save a thong and some jewelry and not much of that. Kendra figured her for ten local years, which was not unexpected. The girl had a willowy figure that bulged when she moved her shoulders and was obviously maintained by a div of hard exercise every day. Muscles were considered attractive here, whereas the Earth style was for softness.

  They were greeted by a marginally older boy in the same dress. His deep brown eyes were piercing but friendly, and he locked eyes with Kendra for just a second, lust flaring in them. Ryan McAran was apparently a known name and they were shown to a large booth. Two other couples were there and introductions were made. McAran was a textile producer, Mattias was in shoes. Jesslyn Niec owned a company that specialized in fabricating machines for clothing, and was accompanied by her boyfriend, Garett Kameha. Andrew Garner and his wife Janie were in molecular fabrics.

  The woman who appeared at Kendra's elbow with a menu was in her local early twenties. She wore more in the sense of mass of fabric, but was still effectively naked. Bellefontaine appeared to Kendra to be like the underground adult clubs mentioned in the news back on Earth. Apparently, they were perfectly acceptable here.

  Kendra accepted the menu and froze when she saw the prices. Even if she wasn't paying, they were a shock. She waited while Alexia and the two gentlemen ordered drinks and asked for a lemon cooler when it was her turn. She gave her attention back to the menu, smiling at a funny comment from Mattias while trying to decide on food.

  Everything looked good and delicious smells emanated from somewhere. Remembering her personal restrictions on food, she hungrily eyed two pictures on the screen, one of a whole lobster, the other a local shellfish called a spiker. As good as they looked, she recalled Alexia's advice not to order the most expensive items available and decided on a grilled orange roughy. That was a fish transplanted from Earth, cheaper here than back home, and very tasty. She closed her menu, sat back and froze.

  Calan was seated several tables away, with Citizen Hernandez and two others. She hoped he wouldn't recognize her, but at that moment, he glanced over. He stared for a few moments, then returned to his meal.

  Kendra caught Alexia's attention, gave her a prearranged signal, then turned to Mattias. "Would you excuse me for a moment?" she asked, rising.

  "Certainly. Please hurry back," he encouraged.

  Kendra went to the restroom, which was spacious, had private booths with makeup tables and a human attendant who was young, male and very sexy. She waited for a few moments. Alexia arrived and asked, "Problem?"

  "Your father and Tom Calan are seated two tables over."

  "I don't recognize the other one," Alexia prompted.

  "Tom Calan, the slime who tried to force me to work here for a bigger commission," Kendra explained vehemently.

  "Ah," Alexia nodded. "Hernandez won't say a word to anyone. I can take care of the other. And remember not to eat too much, as good as the hors d'oeuvres are. How are you holding up?"


  "Okay, I guess. This place goes beyond opulent."

  "That it does. I'll be out in a few. Don't forget to tip the attendant."

  Kendra headed for her seat, smiling at her companions as she neared it. She was doing a lot of smiling this evening, but didn't feel most of it. She dropped the expression seconds later when Calan stood and walked her way. He stood nearby and said, "Things seem to have improved for you since you arrived here, Kendra."

  Kendra froze again and was saved by Alexia returning and stepping between them. "Well, hello, Mister Calan," she said agreeably. Her voice was sultry and enticing.

  "Hello, lady," he grinned brightly, slightly taken aback. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

  "You haven't," she agreed. "And you aren't going to. Kendra is with us this evening and you should stay with my father. Get it?" The vitriolic delivery hadn't budged the delighted smile from Alexia's face. Anyone watching would feel sure they were close friends.

  "I do. It seems that there is a professional breach and I have a fee coming. Or should we go to Citizen's Court?" he returned, staring unkindly at Kendra.

  "I'm trying to decide if you're thinking with your wallet or your balls?" Alexia suggested. She glanced up and down as if he were a lab specimen and said, "Must be your wallet." He stared, wide-eyed at her rudeness. "Kendra is here as a guest, if it's any business of yours, which it isn't." She returned to polite manners very smoothly and took his arm, escorting him to his table. While Kendra resumed her seat, Alexia whispered something to Hernandez, her arm over his shoulder in a friendly fashion.

  Kendra felt a little better and sipped at her drink while awaiting Alexia's return. As Alexia sat down, the server appeared at Kendra's elbow with a folded slip of paper. She opened it and read, "Father is explaining free enterprise to the man. He won't bother you again. Relax and enjoy the show. A note from the staff always makes you look known and experienced. By the way, Niec's 'boyfriend' is another professional. Destroy this note—Mar XX." Kendra looked up, crumpling paper, wondering how Alexia had written the note and had it delivered from plain sight. She met her eyes and received a wicked grin and a sexy flick of tongue to upper lip. No one else had noticed, as the show was starting. Kendra turned her attention that way.

  The stage was in easy view of all tables, well lit and had a set based on geometric shapes, with many straight lines in neon colors. Two dancers came out, one male, one female, and whipped around athletically. The music score was dissonant but interesting and drew attention to the performers. Kendra watched so intently she was distracted when the food arrived. She placed a serviette in her lap, took a bite and enjoyed a delicious clash of rich flavors. She remarked on it to Mattias, who offered a bite of his smoked venison in honey wine sauce. In return, she offered him a bite of hers and allowed him to slip an arm around her waist. He wasn't bad company.

  She almost choked when she looked back to the stage. The dancers were nude, painted or tattooed with very suggestive marks and fondling each other very sexually. They made another fling across the stage, the woman tumbled back gracefully, slipping her legs over her partner's shoulders and pressing herself vertically on whipcord arms, legs held in aerial splits. He made a great show of licking her from crotch to chin as she slid down, knees folding against her shoulders. She made contact with him and they were so perfectly choreographed that he slid straight into her. Their eyes bored into each other, muscles standing out all over. There were murmurs in the audience, approving of the dancers' skill and poise. Kendra stared in horrid fascination.

  The stage darkened to applause, which Kendra joined from politeness, then lit with a different set. The next act was even more graphic, involving a woman and three men. Kendra wasn't sure what purpose the woman served, as she seemed mostly to stand disconsolately in the middle of the stage. Kendra kept most of her attention on her food and client.

  After the meal, which McAran paid for, the four waited for an intermission and headed out to the limo again. Mattias held her hand as they rode to the club known as Level Three.

  The limousine pulled up to the curb and they climbed out, the men being gallant again. Apparently, the purpose of Alexia and Kendra was to impress the local populace. Kendra had felt a brief moment of panic and an extreme flush of embarrassment earlier when a passerby had remarked to his friend, "You couldn't afford five minutes with the blonde. And if you could, you'd probably die in the process."

  "Yeah, but I'd die a happy man," the other promised.

  It had taken careful study of the crowd for Kendra to realize that the two of them were held in high esteem as professionals and she still had trouble accepting that by local standards she was regarded as a stunning beauty.

  Level Three was three levels under Commerce Court. They took a slideway down, past some of the really expensive shops in Court Mall that Kendra had only heard of and never seen. She hung back for a moment and whispered into Alexia's ear, "What type of dancing are we doing?" She had sudden images of formal dances she'd never seen and being a total embarrassment to the party.

  "Oh. Fairly standard stuff in most cultures," Alexia said. Kendra but realized there was a lot to this business and most of it she didn't have a clue about.

  She needn't have worried. Club dancing on Freehold was much like on Earth or anywhere else. Kendra had good rhythm, was energetic and even recognized some of the tunes. She'd had dancing in school, including waltz, swing, liquid and meld and most of it came back to her. She enjoyed herself thoroughly and almost neglected Alexia's advice not to sweat too much.

  She led Joe back to the booth they were all sharing and took a needed swallow of water. They sat, holding hands above the table. Underneath, he lifted her right thigh over his legs and began caressing it gently. His hand slowly worked higher and made Kendra slightly nervous.

  "So, can I persuade you to join me at the Bon Place?" he asked.

  Kendra froze. She hadn't expected this or hadn't wanted to, and had no idea how to decline. Or accept. "Well . . . I don't know," she replied, fixing her smile, hoping desperately that Marta would be off the dance floor soon.

  "I can manage your fee, I'm sure," he insisted. "If you're interested."

  "We'll see," she said neutrally. "I need to ask Alexia what our schedule is."

  "Okay," he agreed, tabling the issue. He returned to his drink, occasionally asking more about flowers.

  When Alexia returned, Kendra stood, took her arm and guided her to a quiet corner.

  "He wants me," she explained.

  "Right. That's up to you," Alexia replied. "If you go, ask three hundred. That gets him a massage and another half-div of conversation."

  "What if he wants sex?"

  "Ask at least another six hundred per half-div. That's my rate. You're not as skilled, but you're better looking."

  "Sure I am—"

  "Don't argue, just take the millionaire's money. If he wants exotic sex, double it. Or tell him you'll let him tip you what he thinks you're worth. His reputation isn't cheap and the name of this business game is to impress people, including us."

  "It's working," Kendra admitted.

  "Ah, these are big fish in a small pond. Now the board of Lola Aerospace, those are some powerful men and women."

  They were heading back now, smiling still. As they resumed their seats, Kendra told him, "I have some time, I think."

  "Now?" he asked.

  "If you like," she replied in what she hoped was an agreeable voice. She rose with him and let him take her arm again. They said goodbye to the others and headed for the door.

  Outside in the corridor he asked, "So what do I owe you?"

  "Three hundred. We'll see where we go from there." She tried to sound assured.

  "Fine," he agreed, drawing cash unobtrusively from a pocket and slipping it into her hand. They walked through several of the Commerce Court buildings, skyscrapers to rival anything on Earth, but descending ninety levels down also.

  Bon Place was the poshest hotel K
endra had ever seen. The fittings in the lobby were black marble, malachite and real silver. An attendant called an elevator for them and smiled politely.

  The corridor upstairs had similar appointments to the lobby and his suite was fantastic. He took her cloak and asked, "Something to drink?"

  "Plain ginger ale, thank you," she replied, gawking while he busied himself at the bar controls. The ceiling was five meters or more, a plunge the size of her bach was on one side and a bed that seemed almost as large on the other.

  She accepted the drink and slipped off her heels.

  "You're still incredibly tall, even without those," he noted.

  "I'm more comfortable like this," she said.

  "The shoes? Possibly one of my stores has something more comfortable."

  "Actually, these came from one of your stores," she said. Thanks to great planning on Marta's part. "They fit fine and I wear them professionally." All two divs of it. "It's my height in them that makes a lot of people nervous and therefore me."

  "I like tall women," he replied, undressing and hanging his expensive suit. "Even if they do intimidate me."

  "Why would we do that?" she asked. Nudity in general was bothering her less, but his nudity made her very uncomfortable. She kept her eyes on his.

  "An executive in my position isn't used to looking up at people in any fashion," he laughed. She joined him.

  "Perhaps I could get a massage?" he suggested, lying down.

  "Certainly," she agreed. She retrieved the bottle of oil from her pouch and knelt over his back.

  His muscles certainly were tense. She kneaded and caressed and worked knots out for half of the time he'd paid for, working down from his neck and shoulders to his calves, finally his feet. He turned over then and she dealt with his well-developed chest and arms, working down to his thighs. She avoided his erection.

  "That's tense for different reasons," he said, catching her staring. "But I wouldn't complain about a massage there, either."